Under Velda's supervision, the other two 8th-graders wheeled out an ancient roll-away bed that'd been hidden at the far end of the room behind several boxes. Carol unhooked the spring latch at the top and opened it up. It was an old steel-framed twin model with a thin, dusty mattress that, surprisingly, I could see was covered by a clean sheet.
“Jackson takes turns with us,” little Ingrid volunteered, apparently without thinking. “We fuck on this.”
“Shut up,” Velda suddenly said to her.
“Who's Jackson?” I wanted to know. “A teacher?”
They all three gave me a look.
“It's none of your business,” Velda said, “but all the male teachers live in town. Only the women teachers live here. And Jackson, the handyman, has a place over the garage.” She grabbed my skinny arm then, hard. “Forget Ingrid said anything about Jackson and fucking. No one knows about it and that's the way it's going to stay.”
She pushed me to the side as she said it. I rubbed my arm, nodding. “Fine,” I told her. “I can keep a secret as well as anybody.”
“We'll see,” she warned. “You don't want to cross us, or you won't like it here.”
“I already don't like it here.”
The two taller girls had followed the red-headed Ingrid's lead and taken off their plaid skirts, and then all three took off their blouses and bras. In only their dark blue knee socks, they'd left me bare-assed naked. My secret excitement from my earlier 'fun' with Ingrid and Carol had perked up my nipples and caused my 11-year-old cunt to be literally dripping.
“Look how hard her nipples are!” Ingrid pointed out. “And her pussy's soaked!”
They made me climb onto the roll-away bed, sideways across it on my hands and knees, so that my bare little ass was sticking up in the air, facing them. The mattress was so thin, I could feel the wire-springs beneath it giving with my weight, under my skinny knees. In fact, I had to grab onto the far edge of the mattress with both hands, holding on tight, to steady myself.
Which is when Carol and Ingrid took the opportunity to each slip a long silk scarf around my slim wrists and loop the other ends tightly under the edge of the mattress, tying those ends to the wire springs beneath. Tightly.
I pulled at them, experimentally, and found I couldn't move either hand.
“This is very weird,” was all I could think to say. “What if there's a fire?”
They all just laughed at that.
“You little slut,” Velda said, her own excitement evident by the hoarseness in her young voice. “Spread your legs wider.”
And as I did, Carol and Ingrid again took the opportunity to tie each of my slender ankles in a similar fashion, to the other edge of the bed, silk scarves holding me in place. It turned out I could move my bare ass up and down and forward and back slightly, but otherwise not get off the bed at all.
“Perfect,” Velda said with a little laugh.
She then moved up behind me and spread the bare cheeks of my rubbery-firm butt apart with her fingers so they could all get a better look. I could tell by their breathing, the sudden tightness of it, that they were all looking straight up my pink little-girl cunt and even at my sweet tiny asshole-like my pussy, it was also slick and throbbing with excitement at the indecent show I was being forced to give them.
Velda was the first to speak.
“You're so wet, it's obvious you got turned on licking their pussies,” she realized. “So we're going to do something completely different. Something you won't like. At least, at first.”
Whatever that was.
I'll admit, though, seeing Velda walking around in just her dark knee socks when she'd stripped had been a bigger thrill to me than I'd ever admit. Her flawless body was as solid as I'd imagined.
And I'd been right-Velda wasn't fat in the least, just… sturdy is the word. Her firm legs were smooth and shapely, her teenage bare ass solid and roundly firm. Her perfect breasts were big and heavy-looking, with extremely large pink nipples. And they swayed deliciously with every little move she made.
She was extremely grown-up for a mere 14-year-old.
But mainly, I'd found myself staring directly at her cunt, which she couldn't help but notice. She half-smiled for a scant moment, as if to herself, but then looked away from me with genuine annoyance.
The sensitive outer lips of her pussy gaped slightly open with the swollen thickness caused by her arousal, the juicy center of her deep slit so slickly wet with anticipation it was like an actual gash of dark pink between her legs. Her fine blonde pubic hair had been trimmed neatly and was already matted with her flowing wetness, even her firm bare inner thighs damp with it.
It was her clit, though, that had my full attention.
Velda's swollen clit easily protruded from under the fleshy little hood that normally protected it. It was easily twice as big as mine, which got me wondering if it might also be twice as sensitive.
Anyway, while I was kneeling there, imagining what it'd be like to suck on that girl's sweet clit, even as mean as she clearly was, a sudden stinging slap to my bare ass caused me to jerk with a sharp little yelp.
“Ow!” I said for the second time that evening. “Hey!”
And before I could continue to complain, or again cry out, Carol was tying several more longish silk scarves, twisted together as one, around my head, then using it as a gag in my mouth.
“We don't want you waking up the whole school,” little Ingrid informed me as the taller blonde tightened the gag. “This is, like, your initiation.”
And Velda stepped in front of me, showing me what was in her hand: a flat wooden paddle, long and thin and springy, with several holes drilled in to reduce air friction. She smacked it against her own outstretched hand, making me jump involuntarily.
“Don't tell anyone about this,” Velda warned me. “Or we'll stick your head in the toilet some night.”
I could only stare at the paddle, my attention riveted as my eyes began to tear up at the thought of what she was about to do to me. But then I realized there was something even weirder going on. Far weirder.
When Velda stepped back slightly, I saw she was wearing a black leather strap-on dildo, a device of chrome studs and belts around her firm bare hips. It was holding a pink-colored dildo snugly in place.
“Do you like my dick?” she smiled wickedly at me, giving it a squeeze as she did so. “I stole it out of my Aunt Christina's walk-in closet.”
I stared, mesmerized, at the dildo itself.
It was not huge, only about 5” long and not even as thick around as my own father's big cock. It was, I realized, the perfect size for use on a young girl, one who wasn't very experienced sexually. As if it'd been chosen at that smaller size to pleasure girls who might be students, say.
Huh.
But, small or not, it was bumpy all over with raised smooth studs and, more importantly, it wasn't just a rubber dildo at all, but rather a flesh-like vibrator, the round head of it already humming quietly.
“It's a vibrator!” little Ingrid announced, assuming I'd never seen one. “A really good one.”
I swallowed hard at the thought, shaking my head.
But then Velda moved around behind me and gave my bare ass a stinging smack with the paddle, causing me to suddenly jerk tight against my silken bonds with a muffled little scream.
I clearly wasn't here for my own pleasure.
CHAPTER 8
I strained against the silk scarves holding me in place with every stinging smack of the springy paddle, my bare little ass squirming around in a useless effort to avoid the blows. But my actions seemed only to tighten the silken bonds around my wrists and ankles.
“It hurts!” I kept crying out, but only into the improvised gag they'd fashioned. I knew no one outside the storeroom could hear a peep from me. “Oh, God, it stings so much! Damn all of you!”
